Page 13 of Beyond Enemy Vows

I feel something crawl beneath my skin when another man leans in too close.

I step into view.

She sees me.

The man stiffens. He makes an excuse and disappears into the crowd.

"You always clear rooms without trying?" she asks.

If her looks weren't enough, her voice seals it. Beautiful and inviting, like what sailors claimed Sirens sounded like, luring them to their deaths.

We banter. She pushes back. She's not afraid of me.

That only makes it worse.

"I can't," she says when I ask for a drink. "I'm flying to Boston in the morning with Keira, and then to Ireland the day after. Her family has a cottage there."

Ireland.

She says it like a secret.

Like a challenge.

"Then maybe I'll meet you there. For that drink," I say.

She doesn't believe me.

But I mean it.

I hand her the napkin with my number. My fingers linger, and I know, whatever it is, she feels it too.

She'll text me.

Even if she doesn't think she will.

She doesn't need another guardian like her brothers suffocating her gates. She needs someone who sees there is more to her. Someone that cares about what is underneath the facade.

Someone like me.

And as I walk away, I realize her texting me doesn't matter.

I'm going to Ireland.

For the drink. For the girl.

And maybe, for myself.

Fuck what her brothers or my dad might think about it.

4

CALLI

What the actual hell just happened?

One minute I'm drinking wine and laughing with a flirty bartender, and the next, I'm getting driven home by a mafia heir with eyes like midnight and the audacity to just show up.

I push away from the door, leaving wet footprints on the wooden floor as I head toward the bedroom. My hands are shaking as I peel off my outfit. I change into an oversized sweater and leggings.